


Where Do We Go from Here?

by youngandbitchy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, MIT, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, References to Depression, Self-Insert, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Triggers, Tumblr: young-and-bitchy, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngandbitchy/pseuds/youngandbitchy
Summary: You have an episode three months after the last one. This time, Steve is there to witness it.





	Where Do We Go from Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Heavy topics like depression are discussed throughout this imagine. Please, do not read if triggered. 
> 
> Requests are open! (tumblr: young-and-bitchy)

The Avengers. Finally together again. You’d dreamed of this day for the last two years. They’d been the only family you’ve ever had, so having them in the compound again made you happy. 

But your issues didn’t end there. 

You hadn’t had a bad day in a long time (three months, to be exact). It was an achievement… that went out the window that morning when Fury gave you constructive criticism. It wasn’t supposed to make you feel this way. You’d had people criticise your tech ways since you’d begun at MIT five years ago… it was exasperating. 

The episode had been going on for three days. The afternoon of the third you left your bag on the floor of the kitchen, the music so loud in your headphones Steve averted your presence four feet before walking in on you trying to get the jar of cookies from a high cabinet. 

“Here, let me,” he offered. 

“No! I can do it!” You exclaimed, your right headphone dropping a second before the left one did. 

The episodes stressed you out, made you lash out when you got surrounded by people. Alone, on the other hand, you felt pain and hot tears in your cheeks or numbness and emptiness. 

You were in the first one. 

You got on your knees on top of the counter to get the cookie jar and went down on your own, rejecting Steve’s help once again. 

“I’m good, I’m good.” You opened the jar and looked inside, the smell of chocolate chip cookies filling your nostrils… and making you sick. “I’m not hungry,” you admitted. 

“Then don’t eat them…,” Steve replied with a frown. “(Y/N), are you okay?” 

You’d never had an episode with Cap around, so this was his first time on the rodeo. He didn’t know better. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, looking down to pick up your headphones… but you didn’t have the energy to. Closely passing to phase two. 

“Are you sure? You don’t look so fine.” 

You met his gaze. The color of his eyes seemed darker given his change of look: the beard, the hair. All darker. But they were still blue; genuine, caring, protective blue. 

You snorted. “Of course I don’t.” 

You picked up your bag and walked towards the elevator to your flat, dragging the headphones. 

“(Y/N)?” Clint called for you, but you didn’t respond. He took a deep breath and went to the kitchen. “Hey, Cap,” he greeted the man. 

“Hey… is she okay?” 

“It’s just an episode,” he answered, going to the cookie jar you previously left there. 

Steve frowned, puzzled. “An episode?” 

“Yeah…” It took Clint a moment to figure out Steve wasn’t aware of your depression. “Oh, shit. You don’t know.” 

“Know what?” Steve was attempting to keep his patience. 

“Sorry, man. Not my place to say.” 

This gave Steve a few clues:  **not my place to say** ; something you were private about, fact you wanted under your control or just Clint’s respect for you.  **An episode** … a disease? He wasn’t very aware of the medical advancements of the 21st century unless it was Wakanda related. 

He wanted to know. 

Steve made his way towards the workshop where Tony and Bruce were doing upgrades to Veronica. 

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce greeted him. 

Tony lifted his head up to see the blond. “Hello, Capsicle. We’re in the zone, here, experimenting with some vibranium. Some upgrades to the shield?” 

“No, thanks, hm… I’m here for something else.”

“Speak now or forever be silent,” Tony joked. 

Bruce grinned. “It’s about (Y/N).” 

Tony and Bruce’s expressions changed. They’d gone from careless to worried in one split second. “What about her? Did something happen?” 

Steve frowned. “No. What? No.”

“Damn it, Cap. Don’t scare a father like that.” He grabbed a screwdriver. 

“She’s not your daughter?” 

“Details.”

“Besides, why would you be scared?” Steve asked and Bruce frowned. “What’s happening to her? Why did Clint mention an  **episode**? What is it you’re not telling me?” 

Tony frowned. “Okay, no. Too many questions which you already know the answers to.”

“Tony, I don’t think he does…” Bruce intervened. 

Tony looked at Steve for a moment: it would make sense he didn’t know, but absurd. It was a topic. Not a very touched one, but every Avenger and recurrent person at the Tower was aware. 

“She suffers from depression, Cap,” Tony said, a frown still on his face. “You didn’t know?” 

“Depression? Isn't… isn’t that like… a mood?” 

Tony stared at him, blankly, for a moment. “I’m gonna pretend those words didn’t come out of your mouth,” Tony said, deadpanned. 

Steve frowned. “What did I say?” 

Bruce sighed. “It’s a legitimate mental illness, Steve. I mean, I forgive your ignorance given the era you were born in, but… it’s legit.” 

“A chemical imbalance of the brain,” Tony continued. 

Steve sat, taking in the information. “Okay, hm… how does it affect her?” 

Bruce came forward, laying back against the table, his attention on the confused man in front of him. “Well… it’s different for each person, but for her… it varies, actually. I don’t know much, I was also out of range when she was diagnosed.”

“Sometimes she cries her eyes out until they get so puffy she can’t see,” Tony spoke. “Sometimes… she can’t even speak. Not because she doesn’t want to, she just…”

“Can’t,” Steve finished the sentence. 

Steve’s mind drowned in confusion. You were a lively, sarcastic, funny person. You’d yell at him through the intercom during missions to not be reckless, you’d laugh until your eyes got teary and your belly ached. You were happy, but… he had been gone for a while. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know,” Bruce said. “She’s very open about it.”

“This is the first time she has an episode with Steve here,” Tony informed. “Too many good days…” 

“When did it happen?” 

“After the Avengers separated. She was an epic mess, Captain, like… it was truly awful. She even had to take a semester off of MIT.” 

“That’s why she just graduated…” 

Steve spent a few more minutes catching up with Tony and Bruce about you. Then, he went online and got soaked in all the information he could. He blessed the Internet. 

When FRIDAY told him dinner was ready, he realised it was late. “I’ll skip it tonight, FRIDAY, thanks. I have something more important to do.” 

  
You had a flat all to yourself, courtesy of Tony. It was small, but it worked for you. You had a room, a kitchenette where the only thing there ever was were Red Vines and take out leftovers. 

Steve couldn’t enter the flat without permission. 

“Miss, Captain Rogers wishes to enter the flat,” FRIDAY announced. 

You were lying on your couch, scrolling through your phone without actually reading anything and your computer, your tablet and chocolate on the centre table. 

You frowned. Steve never came here. You were curious, but not enough.   
“Miss, he’s insisting.”

You grunted. “Put him on my phone.” 

The frame switched. Now, you were seeing Steve with his hands on his hips and furrowed brows. He was wearing baggy pants and a dark shirt, part of his new style. He had a white paper bag on his hand, a logo you didn’t recognise. 

“I’m not in the mood, Captain. Come back next week.” 

“These brownies won’t last till next week.” 

“The logo is from Magnolia Bakery, miss,” FRIDAY informed you. 

“What do you want?” You asked Steve. 

“I want to talk to you.” 

“About?” 

“The weather, (Y/N).” 

“I’m not a meteorologist, Rogers.” 

“Was… Was I not sarcastic enough?” 

You sighed. “I think he just wants to help, miss,” FRIDAY said. “Let him in.” 

You grunted. “Fine. Open the elevator.” 

You rose from your couch, sitting straight. Steve looked around, seeing the posters and pictures and frames of pop culture and paper headlines of the Avengers. 

“I like it,” he commented. 

“Thanks, I guess.” You stretched your hand towards him. “The brownies.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” 

He handed you the bag and you opened it, greeted by the smell of freshly baked brownies. This time it didn’t make your stomach sick. 

You left the bag on the table without taking any. “Why are you here?” 

“Hm… May I?” He asked, signalizing the couch. 

“Don’t have the strength to stop you, so…” 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” He sat, facing you and his elbows on his knees. “I… I know. About… your illness.” 

You frowned. “My carpal tunnel syndrome?” 

Steve frowned as well. “What? No.” 

“Ohhhh. Right… you mean my depression. I thought you knew, though.” 

“No, I didn’t. I was… very surprised to find out.”

“I don’t look like the depressed kind, huh?” Steve didn’t respond. “I know. That’s what Tony thought at first… until he realised he didn’t look like the person to have anxiety issues, and yet again…” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s the mental side of it. You can’t really see it if you can't… see it.” Steve frowned to his words. You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He inquired in a softer tone. 

“Everyone in the compound knows. I thought you did too.”

“No, I was… clueless. Very clueless about it.” 

“Not surprised. You have a clueless nature.”

A crooked smile appeared on his mouth. “I just mean… you could’ve told me.” 

“Steve, I don't… mean to insult you or anything, but… I didn’t see you for two years, and before that I was just the loud, MIT nerdy girl that coordinated your missions and had a crush on you. We were teammates, not friends.” 

Steve felt hurt by your statement. “So you think I don’t care about you?” 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Because I do, you know? And a lot.”

“Didn’t you hear the  **I don’t mean to offend you**  part?” You asked and sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you care… and I do, too.” These words came out in a sincere tone. 

“I should’ve been there,” he mumbled. 

“You can be here now.” He looked at you. “Thank you. For the brownies and for coming to talk to me. I really appreciate it, but for now… I feel like being alone.”   
Steve nodded. “I hear you.” 

Steve rubbed a thumb on your knee softly, which gave you goosebumps. He got up, and as you opened the bag of brownies, you heard him stop on his tracks. “For what it’s worth… I also had a crush on you.”

You smiled to yourself as he walked away, blushing furiously. 


End file.
